


1: A Royal Reception and a Voracious Adventurer

by rahelawriter



Series: FFXIV Write 2019 [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: #FFxivWrite2019, Autistic Original Character, Bad table manners, Crushes, Early in Canon, Eating, Embarrassment, Food, Food Porn, Gen, Not Beta Read, Royal Banquets, Signs of future ship, Ul'dah (Final Fantasy XIV), not that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 10:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahelawriter/pseuds/rahelawriter
Summary: A guileless adventurer raised on the poorest and furthest fringes of southern Thanalan is suddenly faced with not only the discerning eyes of the Ul'dahn elite, but more food than she's ever seen in her life.[Prompt #1 for FFXIV Write 2019: Voracious]





	1: A Royal Reception and a Voracious Adventurer

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the level 14 Ul'dah Main Scenario Quest, 'A Royal Reception.' A very early incident in Rahela's adventure, I thought it was a good match for the first FFXIV Write 2019 prompt. No idea on if/when I'll be able to write any subsequent prompts, though; Hurricane Dorian might or might not force me to adjust my plans. If I do end up slipping, I'll remove the number from the title.

W'rahela was always a hungy child. But she possessed no strength to swing a sword or draw back a bow; she made for a poor huntress, and thus had to rely on her mother, W'yulhia, to feed her. But even then, W'yulhia had to contend with a great deal of obstacles to feed her family. Her hometown was at the very southernmost part of Thanalan; a pointed mesa known as the Gold Fang. It was one of the few settlements south of the Sagolii that still stood. The harbor at Cape Deadwind had been on the decline from pirate attacks even before the Calamity irrevocably wrecked the place and broke the earth, cutting off the entire region from the rest of Thanalan. The W tribe's rivals of the U did not help matters by competing for what little land prey was left. Most of Rahela's meagre childhood meals consisted of various fish from the sands and seas, and little else. Occasions when the W tribe huntresses were lucky enough to bring down sandworms and sundrakes were her idea of a lavish meal…

"And with that, I bid you enjoy the feast!"

Thus, the now up-and-coming adventurer sitting down for the royal feast held in _her_ honor, could scarce believe her eyes at the sight of the impossibly rich banquet laid before her. More foods than she knew the names of lined the table of the Fragrant Chamber, filling her nose with more scents than she could describe. Steaming, freshly-baked bread rolls, with golden brown and bubbly crusts. Countless kinds of meat, some pink, some white, some dark brown, some in-between, all juicy and glistening. Roasted popotoes cut into bite-sized pieces, made colorful with green and red spices. Sauces and melted cheeses to pour over top of everything…

The anxiety she'd had at rubbing elbows with the Ul'dahn elite at once vanished. Any and all reasoning that once resided within her brain was henceforth given to her appetite; she was a stormy vortex and all food within her arms' reach was going to disappear within her mouth. Eyeing the meats, she grabbed the biggest fork in front of her and speared slices of every kind onto her plate. With a spoon, she scooped up the popotoes. While her bare hands were all she needed for snatching the bread from its basket.

Her hand was a blur as she formed a small mountain onto her plate. Once she'd had a satisfactory pile, Rahela dug in. She began by taking a roll and chomping down, savoring the crackling crunch of the crust beneath her teeth, contrasted masterfully with the much softer warmth of the bread. One roll, and then two were quickly devoured, at which point she noticed a miniature plate containing a scoop of butter. The third and last roll was quickly sliced open, and a smattering of half-melted butter was smeared between the split before it closed again; Rahela practically _purred_ at the difference that the addition had made in the flavor. 

Next were the popotoes; the skin was crisp and salty, the spices giving mouthwatering flavors to what might otherwise be bland flesh. Even better, their compact size meant Rahela could stab three pieces upon a long-pronged fork and eat all three at once. 

And the meats… Gods be good, the _meats… The tastes of them defied all description. She could never, ever, ever go back to eating fish after this._

Her reverie abruptly ended mid-chew when she chanced to open her eyes and see a masked lalafell looking right at her. The upturn of his mustache indicated that he was… _sneering_ at her. Rahela stared back, confused, unconsciously swallowing her mouthful.

"Your Grace," the masked lalafell said, leisurely turning his head in Nanamo's direction. "I accept that this banquet is meant to hail this, ah… this '_lady'_ adventurer as a savior of Ul'dah, and is meant to cater to her limited palate. But I ask you all, must we _really_ watch her gorge herself with such reckless abandon?"

"Wh-- huh?" Rahela froze, her ears folding back. Was she doing something wrong? And did he really use air quotes when he called her a lady? What was he saying? "I-I, I was just, I, I…"

"Lord Lolorito," Nanamo spoke up, her voice even, but icy cold. "I ask that you refrain from mocking our guest of honor at her own banquet."

_Lolorito? The man who tried to have Wystan killed for wanting to help the poor? The man who terrified Rahela into hanging up her staff for a week, and nearly forever, for fear that the same would happen to her? THAT Lolorito?!_

The monetarist went on, not reacting to the sudden, visible fear that had gripped the adventurer. "Then I ask that the guest of honor act in a manner that reflects as much. I can hear her chewing from here, and her elbows are on the table. Scrawny as she is, I suppose I could tolerate her simply eating quickly; but honestly, I've seen _swine_ with better table manners."

"I fear that not all of us have been entrenched in etiquette lessons since before we could talk," Nanamo deadpanned. "If the sight of a hero vigorously enjoying a well-earned meal is so unbearable for you to watch, then don't."

It seemed that Lolorito had run out of motivation to argue the point any further, because he said nothing else. Despite the mask covering his face, Rahela could still feel him glowering at her. And now, thanks to the scene he made, she could feel the stares of everyone in the room. She'd made a fool of herself in front of the entire upper class of Ul'dah, just by eating in front of them. By not knowing unspoken rules that nobody told her existed. Just by existing and enjoying a nice meal, she was an embarrassment…

The spiral of anxiety was abruptly ended with the sound of a low belch directly next to her. And immediately all the judgemental stares were drawn away from her, and honed in on the source of the noise.

Rahela blinked, and turned her head to the one sitting at her right. The source of the belch was a young midlander man with slicked-back, snow-white hair; there was something familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He held a cloth napkin to his mouth, and then cleared his throat. "Do excuse me; the meal was so exquisite that I forgot myself." 

_That voice!_ Rahela felt a warmth in her cheeks; she didn't recognize Thancred with his hair styled that way. He lowered the napkin from his face, and took the briefest moment to give her a knowing _wink._

"But what's a little _faux pas_ between friends?" He punctuated with a shrug, and a disarming laugh. The tension in the air remained, but it passed into simple awkwardness as the dinner guests returned to their meals and conversations amongst themselves.

She'd been eating like a slob in front of Ul'dahn high society, _and in front of her crush…_ Thankfully, he seemed to be on her side; and so did the Sultana. But Nanamo was on the other end of the table and Rahela at least knew enough that yelling her thanks across the table would not help matters. But, her mind digressed. "Thancred, I, uh, I, I didn't…"

With a smile, Thancred crossed his arms in his chair. "I wanted so badly to remind him that it was the Monetarist vote that had prevented the Sultanate from giving aid to Cape Deadwind after the Calamity and accelerating its decline into poverty. But I doubt you would appreciate my telling him where your family lives. So instead I opted for the diversion."

"I…" Rahela wanted to say more, but no words would come to her. Instead, all she could communicate was a simple, "Thank you."

"'Twould be remiss of me to sit by and let that bastard humiliate you," he reassured. 

"But, Lo--"

"Don't mind him, or any of them. This is _your_ feast, not theirs."

Rahela knew he was right, but… "Still, I went overboard, and made a slob of myself in front of everyone here…"

"And? So what if you did?" The bard shrugged. "A man of my occupation has seen his fair share of well-to-do social events. Etiquette is important for keeping up appearances and blending in, but it's all performative. No need to be self-conscious, friend. Truly, I understand."

"Understand what?"

"Being excited at the prospect of having access to more food than you've ever had in your life," he explained. "For them, a feast like this is nothing; they eat this well all the time. But for starvelings who've never seen so much food in one place, freely offered to them? It's an experience beyond all our imagination. Don't let the upper crust snobs ruin this for you."

(In the din of the room, Rahela didn't catch onto the meaning of Thancred's use of 'our'.)

"In fact, allow me to make your feast even _more _indulgent…" Pulling some roast popotoes from the pile and putting them onto a small plate, Thancred poured a thick cheese sauce over them, letting it drape over them, followed closely by another, thinner brown sauce. He then nudged the completed dish towards Rahela. "There we are. Popotoes, combined with cheese and gravy; or to call it by its proper name, _poutine. _You are _welcome."_

She looked to him, then back to the dish. Scooping up a spoonful of this new dish, she lifted it to her mouth, and… By the gods, he was _right;_ all the flavors she loved in the popotoes combined with delicious cheese and meaty gravy? Somewhere deep within her throat came a high-pitched squeal as she chewed, the look on her face akin to one who'd just reached the Seventh Heaven.

"The only thing I would advise regarding your eating," Thancred advised, while watching her reactions with a crooked smile, "is that you pace yourself. And save room for dessert, of course."

Rahela's ears perked up and her eyes flew open. "There's dessert?!"

"If I know Her Impetuousness' sweet tooth, most certainly."

**Author's Note:**

> Rahela, unfortunately, went to go talk to Raubahn and then passed out before she could have her dessert.


End file.
